Static Friction
by Misty Reeyus
Summary: Leia loves Milla Maxwell. And when it comes to everyone loving Milla Maxwell, Milla has had it up to here. Fractured!Milla x Leia, in a way.


**Static Friction**

exactly nobody saw this coming and dont ask me what it is because i have no idea myself and its a huge flippin mess

* * *

Whatever it is that sinks into the pit of Milla's stomach at Epsilla stays there all the way back to Drellin, all the way up to the inn room, all the way to when she lies down on her bed and silently pleads for sleep to come for her soon. She desperately needs to be released from consciousness tonight, she needs for the darkness to take her and relieve her from thinking about anything at least until tomorrow. But when Milla closes her eyes, all she can see is the memory of the fractured Rollo, fading right before her eyes until nothing of him remained—a horrible scene set on eternal playback in her head.

The thought _"I'm fractured too" _seizes her heart like a vice, and although Milla lays there for hours, she doesn't get a wink of sleep.

She's still like that when there's a stirring from the bed next to hers, and for the most part, Milla pays Leia little mind as she slips herself out of bed and her footsteps head towards the bathroom. Milla just allows herself the slight distraction of hearing the toilet flush and the sink run, and when Leia comes back, Milla closes her eyes again, pretending to be asleep as Leia shifts to get back into her bed. But instead, Leia stops, lingering in the space between their beds, and even if Milla can't see her, she can hear her breathing from above, she can _feel_ Leia's form hovering over her, and Milla wonders just what sort of business Leia would have with her when she's (supposedly) asleep.

"…What I said back at the ruins. I didn't mean it like that." Leia murmurs it so softly that that Milla doesn't think she meant to say it aloud at all, and Milla knows that even if Leia didn't mean for her to actually hear it, it _was_ directed at her. Milla only barely stops herself from scoffing aloud.

_How did you mean it, then?_

But the next thing Milla knows, Leia's hand is on her forehead, fingers running gently through her bangs, playing with her hair, tracing lightly along her cheek, and that's so unexpected and weirdly intimate and just plain _wrong_ that Milla finally lets her voice sound with a low, testy whisper.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"AH—!"

Milla opens her eyes just in time to see Leia jump in surprise, her figure illuminated only dimly by the faint moonlight coming through the window, as the beginning of a loud cry escapes her throat. Leia cuts herself off almost instantly, though, slapping both her hands over her mouth, and she quickly redirects her gaze over to the other two beds in the room. But neither Elize nor Elle stirs from their slumbers and after a while, Leia lowers her hands from her mouth, letting out a quiet sigh before turning to Milla sheepishly.

"You…you were awake…"

Milla glares. "Yeah, I was. And what were you gonna do if I hadn't been?"

"O-oh, no! No!" Leia whispers frantically, eyes wide. "I-I wasn't gonna do anything weird, honest! I just…it's just…"

Milla never really noticed it before, but now that she's caught Leia off guard, she can see how much the girl's been trying to hold back around her. The usual, careful, cheery facade lies in shambles, and for the first time, Milla really _sees it_—that Leia is looking at her the same way Jude always looks at her, except her gaze is twice as lovesick, twice as longing, twice as ashamed. Honestly, it now seems so glaringly _obvious_ that Milla can't believe she never realized it before.

Leia _loves_ Milla Maxwell.

And when it comes to everyone loving Milla Maxwell, Milla has had it up to _here_.

"Fine," Milla snaps, words like acid on her tongue as she cuts off Leia's babbling, "I get it."

Rage has been building and churning in her gut since day one and Milla has no idea why _this_ of all things is the straw that breaks the camel's back, but that doesn't stop her from lashing out at Leia, seizing her by the wrist and yanking her down. The girl starts to yelp as she falls, so Milla slams her palm over Leia's mouth to muffle her cry, then twists viciously, rolling them both over, pinning the younger girl beneath her on her mattress. There's a triumphant thrum ringing in Milla's ears; a blazing fire burns beneath her skin and surges through her veins, and when Leia gazes up at her with confusion and slight fear in her eyes, Milla feels almost powerful, _vindicated_.

Milla could do anything right now; she could punch Leia across the face, she could _strangle_ her if she wanted, because what does she have left to lose? What do the consequences matter when these people have already destroyed her world and denied her even her own identity, when she's fractured and they're prime and once they get their Milla back, she's going to disappear just like that Rollo did?

Everything has been taken from her and she hates it, she hates this stupid dimension, she hates all the people who did this to her, she hates Ludger and she hates Jude and she hates Leia and she hates she hates she _hates_—

Yet when Milla removes her hand from her captive's mouth, it's not to punch her, or to strangle her, but instead to smash her own lips onto Leia's.

Maybe Milla's just high on this rare and exhilarating sense of power, maybe she needs some form of release for all the pent up frustration and anger and agony that has plagued her for so long, maybe she's just so damn sleep-deprived that Leia suddenly seems a thousand times more attractive than she used to—Milla doesn't know _why_ she does it, but once she kisses Leia, she can't stop herself. Her lips are rough and demanding, her tongue is a spur that plunges straight into Leia's mouth, seeking to poison the other with its bitter taste, with all the sorrow and hatred and everything that Milla's just so _tired_ of feeling, with all the caustic words that so many times formed on her tongue, that only sometimes made it past her lips, but that never truly reached their ears.

But Leia herself seems frozen in place, unresponsive to Milla's actions, until Milla finally is forced to retreat and gasp for breath. Leia stares up at her dumbly when their lips separate, her mouth hanging open like she wants to say something but just can't find the words.

"W-why?" the girl gasps at last. "Why are you—?"

"It's what you want, right?" Milla hisses back, and grabs Leia by both sides of her face to drill her own harsh gaze into trembling green eyes. "You _want_ Milla Maxwell." Or if not that, the next closest thing will do.

Leia whimpers, and visibly swallows hard, but she doesn't deny it. They both know she'd be lying if she did.

Milla scowls. "So be it."

She dips down to kiss Leia again and this time Leia immediately kisses back, her lips pushing desperately and almost _greedily _against Milla's, her hands coming up to twist into blonde hair and pull her in even deeper. And Milla inexplicably _lets_ her, she lets Leia experimentally thrust her own tongue into Milla's mouth, she lets Leia fumble for her hand until she finds it and grasps it tight, she lets Leia intertwine their fingers together, and Milla's body burns hot at every junction where skin meets skin. Leia's tongue flicks over the roof of her mouth one last time before it pulls back, and they both take a moment to catch their breath before Milla takes charge again, her own tongue viciously seeking. Leia somehow sinks even deeper into the mattress, moaning into Milla's mouth, her whole body seeming to melt beneath the assault and for a single, brief moment, Milla doesn't think she's ever felt more _alive_.

But then…then something's balling up in Milla's throat and it's starting to feel hard to swallow, and even as Milla forces herself to keep going, even as her lips press on and her hands wander, she's aware of how her eyes are stinging. She tries to ignore it, even when her eyes finally leak, even when rivulets start to burn hot, wet trails down her cheeks, but then Leia gives a choked gasp, a sharp noise that pops almost painfully against Milla's lips, and Milla jerks back to see tears shimmering at the corners of Leia's eyes too. Milla's gut feels hollow all of a sudden, and whatever was driving her before—the power, or the anger, or the sleep deprivation, or _whatever_—dwindles and dies.

Leia shoves at Milla's shoulders, and it's honestly a very weak shove but it's enough, because without her conviction holding her up, Milla crumbles like an avalanche. She rolls off of Leia until she hits the mattress, and then she just lies there in a limp, sorry pile as Leia quietly sniffles beside her on the bed.

"I'm sorry," Leia sobs, wiping at her eyes, voice choked and shaking and so so _small_ as she turns on her side so that she's facing away. "I'm so sorry, Milla."

But Milla just bites her lip, buries her own wet face into the pillow, and doesn't bother to give Leia a response.

In the end, Milla can't even be sure that she was the one Leia was talking to.


End file.
